


Escape

by jeweniper



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Unrequited Love, kurotsuki mention (literally just mentioned though)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-20 15:14:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3655062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeweniper/pseuds/jeweniper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes being second-best isn't quite enough</p>
            </blockquote>





	Escape

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for HQ Rarepair Week on Tumblr. Yep.

Yachi peeked into the café, spotting Yamaguchi’s stubborn ahoge immediately. “Sorry I’m late,” she winced, sliding into the seat, “my mom wanted my opinion on a project and I lost track of time!” He waved off her apology and eased another limp French fry into his mouth.  
  
It was a lie.  
  
After unexpectedly meeting each other in this café once and having a very pleasant conversation over lunch, the two would come here every Saturday just to share worries and chat. This had been going on for a few months now. From the very beginning, Yamaguchi confided to Yachi about his unrequited feelings for Tsukishima, and at the time Yachi whole-heartedly comforted him. Heck, she was on cloud nine, getting the sweet first year all to herself, their personalities playing off of each other as he opened up to her. For her part, she complained about her own unanswered love—without specifying who. But now she almost dreaded their meetings.  
  
“I sincerely am happy for him,” Yamaguchi was saying, swirling his drink’s straw with a long finger, “but it’s just hard when they only met a year ago and I’ve been here the whole time. You know?” She felt a pang of guilt. After all, she had only met Yamaguchi a year ago, while “Tsukki” had been there forever. She forced the lump of cake down her throat. “And I know that doesn’t mean he _belongs_ to me. I’m not expecting anything! It’s just…” She admired his freckles for the umpteenth time while he gazed out the window. “He didn’t even protest that much when I said I wasn’t free Saturday mornings anymore.” A hollow chuckle escaped his lips, fries forgotten, “scowled once. Do I mean that little?”  
  
Yachi’s cake turned to mud in her mouth, an achy cavity howling in her chest. She shoved more of the now tasteless dessert into her mouth, buying time for her trembling lips. “You and I boff know dat you’re impordant do him!” She blurted through cake, earning a real laugh. His grin still brought butterflies. If only they’d die. She swallowed, grasping the edge of her skirt for support. “I have seen you struggle this year, and even though I’ve only known you guys a short time, it’s clear how much you mean to him. To all of us,” _to me_ , she left off. “And if he doesn’t see how much you care for him, it’s only because he loves Kuroo _so_ much. Isn’t that wonderful? That your Tsukishima was able to find someone to love who adores him so much?” He nodded, grinning despite his glistening eyes.  
  
“You’re the best, Yachi.” She dug her nails into her thigh. This was torture. _But not the best for you._ _“He doesn’t see how much you care because he loves another so much?”_ She might as well be encouraging herself. A spider-web in the window’s corner caught her eye. _Poor moth_ , she thought, witnessing its futile attempts at escape. “So what about you?” He asked, eyes finally on her and her alone. “Any luck with your guy?” An innocent smile still graced his lips. So willing to help.  
  
“No,” she slowly began, looking away from his bright face and back to the moth in the corner. “I don’t think I have much of a chance. But as long as I can support him from the sides, I’ll be okay!” The words didn’t sound like her own. How did all of those manga heroines do it, when she just felt exhausted?  
  
Yamaguchi beamed, “that’s the spirit! ‘Villager B can fight too,’ right?”  
  
Her heart almost stopped. The butterflies returned in force while the moth in the corner became more entangled with the struggle. It would never escape. How fitting. Her mouth spread into something akin to a smile. “That’s right. ‘Villager B can fight too.’” _But it won’t ever be villager A._


End file.
